Warriors

TWENTY-EIGHT

Ada recited from the note that X had tucked inside the bottle.

“Handle your present with confidence,” she said aloud.

The whistling wind answered, followed by a crack of thunder. Rain smacked into her suit and helmet in the torrential downpour.

Holding the wheel of the sailboat in her gloved hands, she tried to see through the waterfall running down her taped-up visor. Swells slapped the twin hulls like the arms of some giant sea creature trying to break them apart.

“Face your future without fear,” she said.

The storm seemed to respond, slamming her with a gust that almost pushed her away from the wheel. Determined, she held on.

Her new companion, Jo-Jo, was belowdecks, hiding under the bunk. Trying not to think about the monkey, she brought up her wrist monitor to make sure she was going in the right direction.

The Vanguard Islands were another two days’ sail, maybe longer. She would be a lot closer had the storm not caught up with her.

She looked out over the luminous horizon. Lightning snaked out in all directions, as if she were in a blue bowl of electricity.

The storm was growing, and she feared for the mast. Even with the small sails designed for storms, it was being tested near its limit.

At least she could operate the mast and sails on her own, without a crew. The automated system was easy to operate with battery power.

Although having to steer out in the weather wasn’t ideal. She would have preferred to do it from the controls inside the cabin, but it was almost impossible to see anything through the clouded windows.

Another flurry of wind buffeted her. That didn’t bother her. It was the lightning and monster waves that had her on edge.

The risk of capsizing grew with every building swell.

Keeping the speed of the boat up allowed her to steer away from the bigger waves. The biggest threat was those tall breaking seas that had rolled her last boat.

But there were other things out here besides the waves and storm to worry about. Mutant sea creatures the size of her boat, or bigger, had evolved to live and hunt in the darkness.

She tried not to think about what lurked below, and focused on the water.

As the hours passed, her hands grew numb inside the soaked gloves. Her body began to tremble from the cold water that had crept beneath her suit. She shivered violently.

Wet, exhausted, and scared, she wasn’t sure how much longer she could stay out here. It was two in the morning, and she hadn’t checked on Jo-Jo since before midnight.

But even a short break could kill them. One rogue wave catching them broadside would roll them.

She remained at the wheel, changing her grip and blinking repeatedly to keep her eyes open. Moving around a bit helped get her blood flowing, but exhaustion had no cure besides sleep.

An hour later she felt as if she would soon pass out.

A wave bashed against the right hull, throwing the sailboat off course and snapping her alert. The skyline lit up with blue tendrils. Thunder like exploding artillery echoed through the early morning hours. She thought of the Vanguard Islands and again wondered whether she would be too late to help her people.

Every minute that passed, her gut told her something was happening back there that would change the future of humanity.

Another tall wave slammed the boat. The sail whipped behind her, the mast vibrating.

Thunder boomed so loud overhead, it rattled her teeth.

She steeled herself. She could do nothing about the lightning, but she just might be able to keep this boat right side up until the storm passed. A strike sizzled into the ocean somewhere in the distance.

Turning the wheel slightly, she kept the boat as perpendicular as she could to the prevailing waves. But it wasn’t enough, and a crossing wave caught them amidships, nearly knocking her off the boat.

Lightning split the sky to westward, where the storm seemed to be the worst. She guided the boat away from it, heading east.

An hour later she reached the edge of the storm, and calmer waters. Exhausted, Ada locked the wheel in place.

It was time to take a break and check on Jo-Jo. And she really had to pee. Dry clothes and a bite to eat also sounded heavenly.

She checked the sails. Both needed better patching, but that could wait. The mainsail was working fine for now.

She ducked into the cabin, where Jo-Jo waited. The monkey leaped on her, clinging to her leg.

“It’s okay,” Ada said. “I’m back, and we’re going to be okay.”

The animal whimpered, gripping her leg as she took off her helmet. Then her suit. Then she peed in the bucket, put on dry clothes, and got back into her suit.

After drinking some water and eating a stick of jerky and her last orange, she checked her wrist monitor. They were heading farther and farther off course. It would only add time to her journey, but that was okay with her as long as they survived.

She had plenty of food and water left. What she needed was rest. She went through her pack to find something for Jo-Jo to eat. The sniffling monkey seemed hungry.

A piece of fish jerky was the first thing she pulled out.

The monkey sniffed at the stick, then bit off a hunk.

Ada went to dump out the bucket. Jo-Jo, still eating, shadowed her to the hatch.

“I’ll be right back,” she said.

Ada got the monkey to back up, then went outside. Lightning burst overhead as she closed the hatch. After discarding the waste into the ocean, she let the bucket collect some rainwater and washed it out. The sea had settled somewhat, but the wind was still brisk, rippling her suit.

The moment she reentered the cabin, Jo-Jo jumped back on her leg, chirping over the howling wind. At least, that was what it sounded like.

But as Ada closed the hatch, she heard another chirping sound. This sounded electronic. She hurried over to the control panel and the cracked radar screen.

The beeping was coming from the speakers, every few seconds. Each time, Ada tensed at the sound.

Either another vessel was out here, or a sea creature swimming along the surface was big enough to be picked up by the radio waves. But the broken screen didn’t allow her to see the range, angle, or velocity of the object or objects.

There was only one way to find out. She put her helmet back on and looped the binoculars around her neck.

“Wait here,” she said to Jo-Jo, gesturing with her finger.

The monkey either didn’t understand or didn’t care, and followed her to the hatch. There, Ada slung her rifle and grabbed her machete. Weapons at the ready, she went outside.

The rain felt like tiny darts being flung at her. She felt as though she was being watched, as if someone or something was looking right at her.

Had something spotted her sailboat? She didn’t see how that was possible. Statistically, it wasn’t likely. They were in the middle of the ocean, a pebble in a desert.

She unlocked the steering, just in case she needed to make a run for it.

Using the glow of lightning in the storm clouds, she scanned the water with her binoculars, keeping one hand on the wheel as she searched.

Several scans in all directions revealed nothing but endless dunes of whitecaps. The storm seemed to be rolling away now, but she feared steering back into it.

After another few minutes of searching the water, she decided that it was safe enough to hew closer to the prescribed heading. Recharged from the water and food, she stayed topside for another half hour.

Once she was back on course and satisfied they would avoid the storm, she went back into the cabin.

As soon as she got inside, she heard the beeping again.

It was getting louder, which meant that whatever it was, it was getting closer.

But that was impossible. She hadn’t seen any vessels. And if one was out there, it had detected her boat and was coming for her.

Not necessarily.

As an officer on two airships, she had learned a lot about radar and what various images could mean. Although she couldn’t determine the object’s range or heading, it had to mean one of two things: Either it had found her and was closing in, or the two vessels were sailing toward the same destination. Statistically, nothing else made sense.

She grabbed her rifle again and went back to the second deck. Standing behind the upper gunwale, she searched the waters again for whatever boat or ship was heading in the same direction.

To the Vanguard Islands.

Michael walked to the briefing room on Discovery, trying to keep his mind off Layla and Bray. The wedding ring on his finger was a constant reminder. The old-world tradition connected them forever.

He massaged the ring, taking comfort in its touch. He’d had plenty of time to think about his family and future during the thirty hours since he left the islands. The airship had been cruising at around twenty-five thousand feet, far above the electrical storms, at an average speed of 150 miles per hour.

Michael opened the hatch into the room where the other divers sat contemplating an uncertain future, for themselves and those they had left behind at the islands. It felt odd not seeing Magnolia and Rodger, but he understood X’s decision to send them to Aruba. And he was glad that X would have divers there with him.

“Briefing starts in a few minutes,” Michael said.

Arlo, Sofia, Edgar, Lena, Ted, and Hector returned to their quiet thoughts.

Time was ever the enemy of a Hell Diver. There was either too much or never enough.

But it was truly an enemy before a mission, especially for the new boots who had so much to think about before the dive.

Michael walked over to the wall-mounted monitor and turned it on. A digital map of their current location came on-screen. The red dot representing Discovery slowly inched across the Atlantic Ocean.

“As you can see, we’re about to cross into West Africa,” Michael said. “We’ll be some of the first humans to pass the invisible threshold in decades.”

“Damn, that’s a big country,” Arlo said. “There’s got to be some survivors living here somewhere.”

“Not a country; it’s a continent,” Sofia said.

Arlo shrugged. “Why do you always got to bust my balls about every damn little thing?”

Ted chuckled and sipped from his flask. “Maybe she likes you, Arlo. You ever thought of that?”

Sofia got out of her chair and knocked the flask out of Ted’s hand.

“Hey!” he yelled, shooting to his feet. “That was valuable shine!”

Michael went over to end the fight before it could get traction. Right as he got there, the hatch opened, and a tall figure ducked under the bulkhead.

“Captain on deck!” Michael said, coming to attention.

The other divers all stood while Ted and Sofia turned toward Les.

“At ease, everyone,” said Les.

Pedro, Eevi, and Timothy followed him into the room. Coughing echoed from the passage, and Samson walked in last, holding a handkerchief to his mouth. When he pulled it away, Michael noticed the flecks of blood.

The engineer was sick and not getting better.

“Have a seat,” Les said.

The divers returned to their chairs, but Ted first reached down and scooped up his flask, putting it back in his vest before the captain could see.

Alfred and his two technicians walked into the dimly lit briefing room. The other two had refused to come on the mission, believing it was too dangerous.

Michael didn’t blame them. He stepped over next to the side of the podium with the Vanguard Islands symbol on the crest.

“All right, listen up,” Les said from behind the podium. “We reach our East Africa destination in about twenty-six hours. We got a five-hour launch jump on Shadow and Renegade, so we’ll have boots on the ground at Kilimanjaro about the same time our ships reach the Outrider. If we don’t shut down the machines fast, King Xavier and General Forge may have more than skinwalkers to fight.”

“I thought Cricket didn’t detect any machines at the skinwalker outpost,” Arlo said.

“Cricket didn’t, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t there,” Michael said. “Some of the footage was difficult to make out, but at least we know where their barracks and their fleet are.”

“Assuming they haven’t left,” Samson said. “Unfortunately, we have no way of knowing what they discover, since we’re now out of range of all radio transmissions.”

Several divers fidgeted in their seats.

“So we have no idea what’s going on at the Vanguard Islands, either?” Lena asked.

“The Vanguard Islands are in good hands with Lieutenant Wynn,” Les said.

“And we’re not on our own,” Michael said. “Don’t forget what King Xavier said.” He took a moment to look at each Hell Diver. “We are only as good as the man or woman standing next to us. Never forget that.”

“Indeed,” Les said. He walked over to the digital map with Samson and instructed Timothy to pull up the target.

A mountain surrounded by green and brown terrain came online.

“This satellite footage of Mount Kilimanjaro is two hundred fifty-eight years old,” Les said. “So a lot will have changed in that time, but for now it’s all we’ve got.”

Pedro walked over to the map, studying it. He turned and said something to Timothy in his native tongue, then pointed to an area on the map and circled it with his finger.

“Pedro said the history handed down through the generations told of the great battle that occurred somewhere around the base of this mountain,” Timothy said.

“What does ‘great battle’ mean?” Sofia asked. “Like ground troops, or was this a battle in the sky, or both, or what?”

Timothy asked Pedro, who shook his head, unsure.

“From what I know about the blackout, there probably wasn’t much left of the world’s militaries to launch this final offensive,” Les said. “I doubt anyone had much of an air force left. It was just the airships that survived the EMP bursts and the computer virus.”

The rumbling deck beneath his boots reminded Michael of the irony. They were on the last known airship in the world, and they were going to use it to destroy the machines.

Pedro spoke again, and Timothy interpreted.

“He says the allied forces were trying to get inside the base, where they could shut down the machines by destroying their mainframe. This was around two hundred fifty years ago. Time enough for them to build more mainframes or move them.”

“Not necessarily,” Les said. He nodded to the AI. “Timothy, share your plan.”

Timothy turned off the map of the target and replaced it with a technical rendering of a DEF-Nine unit. The 3D image showed the machine’s multilayered anatomy. An orange visor glowed on a titanium-alloy skull with humanoid features.

“The endoskeleton is a lab-created hyperalloy,” Timothy said. “Very strong and almost impervious to bullets. The DEF-Nine units have a supercomputer the size of a microchip, encased inside the skull. To bring one down, you need to destroy either the supercomputer or the battery unit in the chest.”

“But there is another way to bring them all down,” Les said. “According to Pedro, their mainframe acts as a heart to machines across the world, and Timothy has a plan to destroy it.”

Les pulled out two metal devices that looked like old-world computer flash drives. He held them up for everyone to see.

“A virus,” he said. “The same way they destroyed us during the blackout.”

Michael was the only other person in the room besides Samson who knew of the plan. He had shared it only with Layla, before leaving. It was part of the reason she believed this wasn’t a suicide mission after all.

“There are two ways to end the AI threat,” Timothy said. “Either by destroying the mainframe with a nuclear blast or by uploading this computer virus, which will do essentially the same thing by sending a signal worldwide to every DEF-Nine unit.”

“You mean a Hell Diver delivering the virus, right?” Lena asked.

“Correct.”

“How does this virus work?” Edgar asked.

“Quite simply, really,” Timothy said. He gave a half smile. “The computer virus changes one key component of the machine’s programming: to kill humans.”

“So it doesn’t destroy them?” Sofia asked.

“No,” Timothy said. “I designed this virus by uploading a crucial part of my own programming: never to harm a human.”

“It’s genius if it works,” Samson said.

Les walked back to the screen to look at the technical rendering of the machine. “It will work,” he said after a pause. “And while I would prefer to destroy them, our duty is to protect humanity in any way possible.”

He switched the screen back to the map.

“Mount Kilimanjaro is huge,” Timothy said. “At five thousand, eight hundred ninety-five meters above sea level, it’s the world’s twentieth-highest summit. A hard slog, but not a technical ascent, so you won’t need climbing gear.”

“Still, we don’t know exactly what the terrain is like,” Les cut in. “So we’ll approach cautiously and come up with a plan once we’re closer. Commander Everhart will explain.”

Michael stepped in front and said, “I’ve been given the duty and honor of helping plan this mission. After much deliberation, Captain Mitchells and I have agreed we will hover at forty thousand feet, about ten miles from the target. Here.”

Timothy marked the spot on the digital map, not far from the area Pedro had pointed out: an area of low hills around the base of the mountain where the decisive battle had occurred.

“From there, we will send in Cricket to access the machines’ defenses,” Michael continued. “If we determine we can get close enough to send a missile down their throats, we’ll launch one of the nukes.”

“We expect the base to be buried and heavily defended,” Samson said. “If I were the machines, I would protect the mainframe with every resource available.”

“And if we can’t launch the nukes?” Arlo asked.

“Then we go with plan B,” Michael said. “Send in the Hell Divers, with Les and me leading two teams to deliver the virus that will produce the same effect.”

“I’ll take Team Phoenix with Lena, Ted, and Edgar,” Les said.

“And I’ve got Team Raptor,” Michael said. “Arlo, Sofia, and Hector are with me.”

“If that happens, Eevi and Timothy will man the ship with Alfred and his skeleton crew,” Les said. “The rest of us will locate the main facility, infiltrate it, and upload the virus.”

Several of the divers exchanged worried glances.

Michael discreetly scrutinized them one by one. Ted was nervously running his fingers through his hair. Arlo doodled on his notepad, making stick figures of what had to be machines. Hector had his arms folded over his muscular chest, showing no emotion.

Others sought comfort in one another. Michael noticed Edgar brush his finger up next to Lena’s hand under the table. She didn’t seem to mind.

“I know what you’re all thinking,” Michael said.

“I doubt that,” Arlo said. “Unless it’s that eight of us are launching an offensive against the machines, when a worldwide effort failed two hundred and sixty years ago.”

“You have something they did not,” Timothy said.

The AI had been uncharacteristically quiet for most of the journey, and Michael was glad to see him speaking up.

“What’s that? You?” Ted asked.

“No. You,” Timothy said.

“Hell Divers,” Michael said.

“And a captain hell-bent on destroying the machines,” Les said. “All I need is for you to show up when the time comes, and fight by my side. I’ll do the rest.”

Michael subtly glanced at the tall man. The iron resolve in his features was the same that he often saw in X.

“Any questions?” Les asked.

When no one spoke, Michael said, “All right, get some shut-eye. We’re all going to need it.”

The divers got up and slogged out of the room with the technicians.

“They think it’s a suicide mission,” Eevi said.

Samson frowned. “The chances of success are thin.”

“Thanks for keeping that to yourself earlier,” Les said.

Timothy cupped his hands behind his back but said nothing even though he surely knew the numerical odds for success. Michael didn’t want to hear the number, either.

Les shut off the digital map. “Let’s get back to the bridge,” he said.

Timothy’s hologram was already there.

“What’s our current location?” Les asked.

Eevi took a seat at her station and scanned the weather conditions. “We’re just passing over the West African coastline,” Timothy replied. “A place that was called Liberia.”

“And the skies?” Les asked.

“Storms are still ten thousand feet below us, sir,” Eevi replied. “All clear from what I can see.”

“For now,” Timothy said, “but according to the archives, several nukes were detonated in areas we are traversing. I’ve adjusted our course, but we will likely experience an increase in storm activity.”

“Okay,” Les said. “Keep an eye out for hostiles on radar.”

“You really think the machines could have aircraft?” Eevi asked. “There’s zero evidence of that.”

“If they had aircraft, they would have found our airships over the years,” Michael said. “They probably thought we were all dead.”

Les went and sat in his captain’s chair, staring at the section of hull where the portholes had been replaced with lightweight aluminum plates. Michael joined him there for a moment.

Across the world, X would be halfway to Aruba. And neither team knew how many hostiles waited at their targets.

“Everyone remain on high alert,” Les said. “We’re in enemy territory. Anything is possible now.”